


Aliasing

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 21:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17926640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto’s a photographer at Galdin and gets a weird client.





	Aliasing

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s not exactly lucrative, but it pays the bills—at least so long as he lives outside the capital. Someday, Prompto hopes to be a fulltime photographer, professionally known across the continent, and have enough cash to afford some fancy apartment in the center of Insomnia. Then he’ll have framed portraits all over his walls, stylish shots that he took and edited all himself, blown up to ten times their size. He’ll have a whole studio and maybe even a permanent gallery. All the models will want to work with him, and the rich and beautiful who weren’t models before will want to convert just to be behind his lens. He wants one in particular, and _someday_ , Prompto’s going to make it happen.

In the meantime, he does okay drifting about Galdin Quay, his bulky high-quality camera in hand and a stack of business cards stuffed into his pocket. Most of his shots are typical vacation souvenirs—new couples posing by the beach, families sitting in the restaurant, occasionally fishing fanatics with an exotic catch. He’s walking back through the surf in the wake of one of those, an impressive amount of gil in the pocket of his jeans. He’ll be able to afford one of Coctura’s specials, which he’s very much looking forward to. But it’s still bright and sunny out, so he’s hoping for a few more gigs before he packs up for the day.

By now, the gorgeous scenery’s ingrained in Prompto’s brain. He doesn’t ogle it anymore as he wanders back through the sand, pants rolled up and feet kicking through the lapping tide. Instead, his eyes are fixed on his camera, as they are more often than not. When he’s not working for whatever client happens to catch him, he’s snapping shots of anything and everything. Scrolling back through those is always thrilling. He can always sell the particularly good ones to the Galdin hotel for use in postcards and flyers. Of course, he also likes to have a bunch just for himself. There’re two in particular he’s definitely going to save onto his hard drive. It was a good day for hotties—he spotted a giant beefcake doing laps by the campsite only half an hour ago, and about twenty minutes after that, a tall, slender drink of water sitting in a sleek black car in the parking lot. The shots are quick and long off, unfortunately, but he hasn’t quite worked himself up to approaching the models _he_ really wants. It’s a shame, because the customers that come to him are never _quite_ his cup of tea.

“Prompto Argentum?”

Prompto immediately stops walking. When his head shoots up, he’s already got the customary smile plastered onto his face. He’s used to the concierge handing out his card and name, and he’s always ready to greet a new customer. Then his smile falters when he sees who it is this time—his whole body freezes up.

Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum is standing right in front of him. Prompto half thinks the sun suddenly flared up, and a heatstroke’s making him see things. Except if he was going to picture this particular illusion, he’d picture the prince in royal black, hair perfectly groomed and expression cool and casual—he _always_ looks _so cool_. The magazine photos and television appearances never frame him properly, but he still always looks better than any professional model Prompto’s ever seen. Except this time. At the moment, Noctis Lucis Caelum looks as wildly handsome as ever, just in borderline goofy ‘plain’ clothes. He’s got on black jeans and sneakers, an ill-fitting white shirt, fingerless gloves, and a baseball cap. It sort of looks like he’s trying to be incognito, except he’s way too hot to not be recognizable. And Prompto, someone who’s always appreciated that inherent beauty, would recognize his dream model anywhere.

To make things weirder, Noctis is holding a cat. Cream-coloured with brown tips, the scruffy animal looks vaguely familiar. Prompto didn’t know the prince had a cat. Then again, he’s not one of those people that reads every scrap of gossip about the royal family. He’s not _that_ obsessed.

When Noctis tilts his head, giving Prompto a funny look, Prompto realizes just how still he’s been. Startling and probably blushing up a storm, he awkwardly chirps, “Yup, that’s me! Photographer extraordinaire!” He tries to smile and lamely holds up his camera. Noctis glances at it.

The cat meows in Noctis’ arms. He shifts his grip on it, moving to pet it behind its ears. He doesn’t offer his name, maybe in an effort to not draw attention to himself, but it doesn’t work—Prompto has his name memorized. It makes sense—most people who _did_ know they were photographing the prince would immediately sell them off to the tabloids. Dino, for example, will probably be all over this ‘scoop’ if he sees Noctis lurking around.

Then it hits Prompto like a raging tidal wave: _he’s probably going to get to take pictures of the prince._ His dreams have all come true.

Except Noctis clears his throat and asks, actually sounding just as awkward as Prompto feels, “Could you, uh... take some pics of my cat?”

Prompto blinks. He’s irrationally disappointed. “Your... cat?”

Colour blossoms in Noctis’ cheeks. It’s incredibly endearing, especially because it makes Prompto feel less stupid for his own burning face. “Uh, I mean... the lady said you’ll photograph anything, so...”

“Right, right, and you want pictures of your pet, right...” Totally makes sense. He thinks he has read before that their prince is an animal lover. “Uh... where do you want them?”

Noctis shrugs. “I dunno, wherever you want...”

He’s not making this easy. Prompto shuffles his feet. The air’s as pleasantly warm as ever, but he’s grateful for the cool rush of the water—every time the tide comes in, the cold hits him and helps keep his whole body from burning up with embarrassment and guilty pleasure. “Um... anywhere’s good...”

“How about the restaurant?” Noctis tries, pausing a moment before carefully adding, “Maybe a table in the back...? We could get one together...”

“Sure,” Prompto blurts, still processing the idea of _sharing a table in a restaurant with the prince._ If he didn’t know better, he’d think Dino hired an impersonator to mess with him or something. But Noctis looks too _Noctis_ to be anything but the real deal. Granted, he’s not acting like Prompto expected—hardly the regal, dispassionate diplomat Prompto imagined. He’s more just like... some dude on the beach with a cat.

At Prompto’s agreement, Noctis hesitates, then abruptly turns around. He starts walking, and Prompto hurries to follow, lurching to his side and keeping pace. The cat quietly kneads at Noctis’ shirt while they walk, which Noctis doesn’t seem to mind. For once, Prompto doesn’t cast a single glance in his camera’s direction. He’s too desperate to live in the moment.

They’re too close to the boardwalk. They’re off the sand in no time, onto the pavement, then the wooden walkway, and then the walk’s over before Prompto’s ready. Noctis goes right past the tables in the front, pulling his cap down as he goes and pointedly avoiding any attention. He doesn’t look up again until he’s reached one of the lounges in the back. Prompto’s dying to sit right next to him and pull up close, close enough for their legs to touch and their arms to brush and them to be able to chat quietly and get to know one another. Unfortunately, he has a job to do. He sits on the other side of the cushioned bench and quickly adjusts the settings on his camera for the lighting. He doesn’t have a whole lot of experience photographing animals, but he’s absolutely going to do his best. 

“So... uh... what do you want me to do?” Noctis asks. Considering he’s the one that sought out Prompto, he doesn’t seem to have actually given a whole lot of thought to the product he’s ordering. Normally, Prompto would just make whatever decisions he thinks best. In this case, he frets over it—he really, _really _wants Noctis to be happy with the pictures.__

__He suggests, “Uh... just... put her in your lap, I guess? Or... he? Sorry—”_ _

__“He,” Noctis says, sounding bizarrely unsure._ _

__“Right.” At least that gives Prompto an opening for conversation. “What’s his name?”_ _

__Noctis opens his mouth, does nothing with it, then says a conspicuous amount of seconds later: “Ignis.”_ _

__“Oh.” Prompto smiles and pretends that’s a normal name for a cat. He lifts the camera up, then pauses when he realizes he’s literally aiming a camera at the prince’s crotch. It’s like some weird, warped knock-off version of his wildest fantasies._ _

__Noctis nudges the cat, and it turns to look at Prompto, mewing at the camera. Prompto quickly snaps a few shots with the flash off, then readjusts from a different angle. He doesn’t know how many pictures the prince wants, but he’s hoping _lots_._ _

__Slipping off the couch, he zooms in for a tilted close up. Noctis asks, “So... you work here a lot?”_ _

__“When the weather’s good, yeah,” Prompto answers, before realizing that _prince is actually making small talk with him._ He wonders if it’d be okay to ask about Noctis in return, or if that’s totally off limits, since Noctis seems to be trying not to draw attention to himself._ _

__“Is it nice, working here? I mean... do _you_ like it?”_ _

__The cat flicks its tail and randomly flops over, turning its back to Prompto. He climbs back onto the couch and lowers the camera. “Yeah... I mean, I love photography, so... sorry, could you maybe...?”_ _

__“Right...” Noctis mutters, trying to nudge the cat onto its back. At first, it ignores him, then suddenly rolls right over like a puppy. Noctis rewards it by scratching its tummy. Prompto returns to his camera and zooms out, wanting to catch the entire pictures as a whole—both the cat _and_ Noctis—because it’s adorable. Noctis continues, “So, photography’s your thing, then?”_ _

__“Yeah...” The cat nips at Noctis’ hand—he pulls his finger free of danger with lightning-quick reflexes._ _

__“What else do you do?”_ _

__Prompto readjusts the angle to capture just the cat again, since that’s what Noctis asked for. Focusing on his job helps take away some of the nerves, which he’s definitely getting from having a gorgeous man ask him semi-personal questions. “I dunno... video games, I guess?”_ _

__“You play video games?” Noctis presses. “Do you play King’s Knight?”_ _

__Prompto can’t help the sudden grin that comes to him. “Man, only every single day! That’s my favourite. I mean, I know it’s just a mobile game, but I’m totally addicted—” Then he makes himself shut up; he shouldn’t be rambling on the job and making a fool of himself in front of the prince._ _

__“Me too. Except I’m kinda running out of people to play w—”_ _

__“Your Highness?”_ _

__Looking like a newborn Anak in headlights, Noctis whirls around. Prompto looks too, lowering his camera, blushing hard at being caught, and desperately hoping the Crownsguard aren’t about to drag him off for daring to speak to his prince. The two men standing next to their table—both, to Prompto’s shock and horror, the ones from his ‘hottie’ shots earlier—look very much like they could be undercover Crownsguard, ready for the kill._ _

__Noctis hisses, “Ignis, I’m trying to go incognito—” The beefcake behind the one in glasses snorts. Prompto thinks the one in glasses is the one that spoke. Noctis cuts off, obviously disgruntled._ _

__Because Prompto’s never been great at thinking first and leaping second, he blurts out, “You named your cat after your boyfriend?”_ _

__“No,” Noctis hurriedly insists, “I’m single!”_ _

__‘Ignis’ lifts one ash-brown brow but says nothing. The bigger man asks, “Isn’t that the stray we saw out front?”_ _

__Noctis looks mortified. Ignis murmurs, “Ah, I see...” Then he turns and tells the other man, “Perhaps we should wait in the car.”_ _

__“But—”_ _

__Ignis doesn’t give him a chance to finish, instead tugging him off and telling Noctis, “Text me when you’re finished.” Noctis, red as a strawberry, nods. To make things even weirder, the cat pads off Noctis’ lap and darts beneath the table. Noctis doesn’t even go after it._ _

__Instead he looks at Prompto, before quickly looking away again and scratching the back of his head. He mutters guiltily, “Okay, I... might’ve just wanted an excuse to talk to you...”_ _

__If Prompto were a computer, he’d be crashing. He just sort of stares dazedly at Noctis until the prince straightens up again and sighs, “I saw you on the beach, and you looked cute, and I thought I might’ve even recognized you from school, and I just thought...”_ _

__Prompto somehow asks, “Do you want to have dinner?” Which is ridiculous for a number of reasons, including the fact that it’s only lunchtime._ _

__But Noctis sheepishly nods and says, “Yeah.”_ _

__Prompto’s giddy all the way to the bar, where Noctis orders him Coctura’s best, and they return to chat and watch cat-Ignis run off somewhere nice._ _


End file.
